My XXI Century Diary

Friday, September 29, 2006

My “head doctor” told me that my depression was due to a chemical unbalance in my brain had that I would have to take medication to compensate that. At first I thought “he’s got to be kidding, medication??”. But I took them anyway. I noticed that the horrible panic attacks stopped and I felt much better. I though “ok, so it’s working”. I felt better than I had in years. I even thought how was it possible that I had endured the anxiety attacks for so long… when a small pill could have fixed it all.

It’s been about five months since I began taking these drugs. Now I’ve come to the point that I’m questioning whether or not I can do without them. The day before yesterday I forgot to take my night pill and my by the next day, right after lunch, I started to feel symptoms of withdrawal. I felt like crap, cold chills and anxiety. What the hell is goin on? Am I addicted to these things? The thought of being an addict made me feel anxious and sad. Did I make the right choice? Could there have been a better way out? Now I feel like I’m just another one of those domestic addicts. How different is it from being addicted to other drugs? Just the fact that it’s legal and you can get the drugs in any pharmacy?

All these emotional improvements I’ve been going through, I feel they aren’t real. This is not real happiness, it’s a chemical happiness that only coveres up the problem for while. How do I fix the problem that consumed me in the first place? Will it be back if I stop taking the meds? Is all I’m saying just the after effects from the medication? Am I lucid enough to talk straight?

Today I feel like I’m just going through the motions. I’m not in my full capacity to embrace all that life has in store for me. The ups and downs are a straight line which I can't distinguish sometimes. Emotions are blurred and I fell tired.

But I don't want to feel the way I felt before. I'm conscient that if it weren't for the meds, I'd be a worst off. Maybe I just shouldn't think so much.

Friday, September 08, 2006

When people ask me if I have any regrets about having done an abortion, I usually say that it was the right thing to do at the time. But it's a lie. I regret it to the deepest core of my heart and soul. I think about it all the time. I can't help wondering what color eyes he would have, how his hair would be, his smile, his laughfter. It drives me nuts sometimes. Whenever I see a pregnant woman, or a baby, I cry inside.

I didn't do the right thing. I knew it then, and I know it now. So what made me do it. Just fear I guess. I was a coward, and this will haunt me forever.

Thursday, September 07, 2006

He came to her with a small piece of paper in his hand and said, "You see this paper? Here are the names of three women and yours is underlined. I made this test and the result says you are the one. There is no mistake ... it's you."

She looked at the piece of paper not believing it. Her name was there and it was underlined. This is not possible, what is happening? She thought. She looked up at him and suddenly felt an enormous desire to kiss him. She felt a shiver down her spine and her heart was beating like crazy. But she couldn't... she shouldn't. He was still gazing at her as if she were the only woman on earth. It was the most intense and passionate look she had ever felt upon her. She turned away to avoid his gaze, to try to understand what was happening. Why this man? I'm not in love with him... I have someone. Although she knew what was happening was impossible, she felt alive, she wanted him to hold his arms around her, even if only for a while. She had to understand why. And as if he had read her mind, suddenly she felt his arms around her. He held her face and whispered, "It's you... I know it's you..."

When she woke up, she could still feel his lips on hers and her heart beating fast. It had been a dream...but why? Why him?

Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Yesterday was a sad day. I heard that a very dear uncle of mine had passed away, the morning after his birthday party. I was distraught. I liked him so much. I hadn’t seen him in ages, but the memories I have of him when I was a child are still with me like it was yesterday. He used to make us laugh with his jokes and stories…he had such patience for us. I used to think that man would live forever. He was always so alive and funny. And most of all, he was a great person and a great friend of my family’s.

Him and aunt Leia had this really nice house with a small patio in the middle, which had a tamarind tree (it’s a typical cape-verdean dry fruit). We used to climb that tree to get some tamarind and he would reprehend us, but not too severely. Then we’d have a big lunch and he would tell us all these funny stories. He had a contagious laugh and a wide smile. He was small and chubby and had a soft baldhead that we liked to tease with.

I can’t believe he’s gone. Uncle Tanche and Aunt Leia where the my family's best friends, I have no doubt about it.

But I’m sure he will remain in that house, looking after aunt Leia so she won’t feel so lonely. His favorite place was this room he used to lock so we wouldn’t go in. I’m sure that’s where I’ll find him when I go there.

Friday, September 01, 2006

Yesterday I met with some childhood buddies that I hadn't seen in a while. It was the most fun I have had in a long while. The type of fun only possible when you meet old friends, real friends that know you like the palm of their hands even if we spend years without seeing each other. These are the friendships I prize; these are the friends I know I can truly count on.

I’m not an easy person to understand, I hold my thoughts in a very tight shell…but these people really know me. They see right through m eno matter what mask I try to wear. It’s such a relief! Not having to be nice if I don’t feel like it, not having to make up stories if I can’t show up, not having to be someone I’m not. It’s so exhausting sometimes.

But yesterday I took a break from that. I guess the few times I’m truly myself socially is when I’m when them. My childhood buddies, the ones I used to play with; the one I laughed cried and with. It feels like home.

I’m sorry that I rarely call or email. I should value these people more. I will never meet anyone else that I can relate to this well. I like to call them my amulet friends. They give me luck.It will be a while until I see them again. But It’s ok. This time, I’ll be sure to stay in touch.

Today I feel like time isn't going by. The hours seam endless here at the office. I'd trade my pinky finger for a day at the beach right about now. There is absolutely nothing to do! This country stops in August. It's a sin wasting time this way, I hate having nothing to do… that’s why I’m here scribbling nonsense. If I had a cent for each second of boredom I'm having today, I’d have a pretty good time at the end of the day with the money I'd make. But it isn’t. And killing time in an office where you hate being at times of slow workflow is a real bummer.

So, as long as there is no work to do (I’m really not earning my monthly pay check these days), I’ve been surfing the net.

I found this really interesting site called Unexplained Mysteries. It’s filled with mystical contents; it has all sorts of information, about ancient civilizations, paranormal phenomenon, ghost stories, extraterrestrial, spiritualities, myths, etc. From time to time I like to make an escape to unknown dimensions, especially when I’m this bored. It keeps me balanced.

Yesterday I was at the airport to fetch someone and had an uneasy experience. Anything that reminds you of death is uneasy. In the midst people who were joyfully greeting themselves as they were rejoined, there were two groups of people that caught my attention, two families who were arriving and they where both in mourning. Two distinct families, both grieving for a lost one. I knwe they were grieving because the members in one of the families were all dressed and black and their eyes were bloodshot with tears. In the other family, a woman, who seamed to be the mother, was in tears and looked like someone had run over her soul. One place, one single moment, where two completely different emotions filled the air. I felt myself taking in both energies and felt tired and extremely sad. Then I chose to brush it aside and focus on the reason I was there. I was there to meet someone I hadn’t seen in a while, someone who hadn’t seen her daughter in a month and I was there to witness a happy encounter. I should receive her with a smile. And I did, nothing else should matter at that moment. And when I saw mother and daughter meet in an incredibly tender and emotional embrace, I saw tears of happiness that completely overdrew the feeling of hopelessness I was felt before.

These moments are the ones we should cherish and hold on to as much as we can, because sad moment last long and always catch us by surprise. Celebrating life Is the best thing we can do.

Monday, August 28, 2006

I know smoking is bad for me. I'm not stupid, I know what it does to me. But damn, it feels so good. I'm not a heavy smoker, I only smoke about 3 or 4 cigarettes a day, but each time smoke I feel comforted and in a safe place. I feel relaxed and it helps me think. Isn't it weird?

Do I recognize my smoking as a habit? I guess I do. I realize I need that one smoke after my coffee that will make me feel good. But I think if I smoked a pack a day ou more, I the whole pleasure element of it would be obliterated by the need and craving. And there is no pleasure in privation, not the way I see it. There is however, a pleasure in risk, so you have a tricky situation. You want to take a risk, but you don't want to go overboard.

But It's such a hypocrisy isn't it? It’s amazing the kind of bullshit we feed our minds in exchange of a few pleasurable moments! We're so small.

But something this good has to be bad for you. It’s almost like sex, but with the counter part. Let's try not to go overboard in either case.